


Cramped Places

by StupidBolts



Category: Transformers, Transformers RID
Genre: Broom Cupboard Sex, Chop Shop's a bloody chav, Insult Kink, Long Tongue, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-16 22:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11262363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StupidBolts/pseuds/StupidBolts
Summary: Chop Shop gets Sabre Horn alone in a broom cupboard. What more is there to say?





	Cramped Places

Whatever it had been that Sabrehorn found attractive in Chop Shop... very quickly went out the window as the larger Insecticon shoved him unceremoniously into a dusty storage room. He grunted when his shoulder bumped into a shelf, wings twitching at the cramped space.

“You must be joking!”

All he got was a vulgar chuckle as the combiner stepped in after him and shut the door. The cupboard went dark, aside from the hallway lights outside spilling in through the cracks around the door. He could just about see Chop Shop's outline, and the golden glowing decals in his armour as he pressed up close to him. Sabrehorn held his intakes for a second, the larger mech pressing their mouths together roughly, then he frowned.

“Oafish boar.” Chop Shop just laughed, then grabbed his horn and licked up the length of it. Sabrehorn twitched. His horn was used for territorial disputes and mating displays with other Insecticons. It was just barely sensitive, but the attention to it was what got the reaction, and he fell silent. The ant had to lean down and around to reach his mouth, pressing another of those lazy, inelegant kisses and pushing his glossa into Sabre's mouth. He grunted, pushing on his partner's shoulder. “Mmph—must you be so... so... repugnant?”

“Yeah,” was the husky response. “I do.” Large hands were suddenly groping his thighs, and Sabrehorn let out a muffled yelp as Chop Shop suddenly smothered him with attention.

The beetle was stiff and tense for a good long while, but eventually eased into it, resting his hands on Chop Shop's shoulder.

“Mmn...” Maybe this wasn't so bad. Aggressive as it appeared, Chop Shop could be described as passionate. At a push. Sabrehorn was gradually falling into rhythm, one servo sliding over his partner's shoulder and down his back, while the other pulled him in closer by the back of his helm, when something suddenly slithered right through his mouth and prodded the back of his throat. Sabrehorn gagged and choked, ripping away from the kiss and coughing loudly. He looked up with an indignant snarl to demand just what that was, when Chop Shop's grin just barely showed in the dim light, and he opened his mouth.

A long, glowing gold glossa slithered out from between his lips. It extended further and further, until the tip reached just above the bottom of Chop Shop's chest. Sabrehorn stared at it. It wasn't uncommon for Insecticons to have obscenely long tongues. Well, the more primitive breeds. Sabrehorn certainly didn't. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure where Chop Shop fell on that scale.

The beetle narrowed his optics, cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Don't. Do that. Again.” That thuggish chuckle came again, and his glossa slid back into his mouth slowly, almost tauntingly. 

Sabrehorn shifted against the dirty wall. His partner leaned back down again, until their lips were a breath away from each other.

“I was testin'.”

“Testing for what, exactly?”

“Whether you 'ad a gag reflex or not.” Sabrehorn's audials may very well have whistled like a kettle as steam puffed out of them, face heating up with the most furious expression.

“You uncouth, rapacious, pig headed--!” Chop Shop crammed his glossa into Sabrehorn's mouth again, and this time the beetle's arms flew around his neck. He broke away sloppily, the combiner scraping his dentals over his partner's neck cables as the tirade of insults restarted. “-- arrogant, impudent, vulgar, inelegant--!”

Chop Shop moved down his chest and stomach, then knelt on one knee and lifted one of the beetle's knees up, nipping and sucking at his thighs.

“Oh-- feral, brutish, vile – ahhn! – beastly, callous, wicked, wolfish – oh, Primus!” In a moment of haze he'd never admit to having, Sabrehorn's panel snapped back, and Chop Shop leapt at it without a moment's hesitation. Sabrehorn howled, tossing his head back and grasping the back of the ant's helm, pushing him further into his valve. He sucked, licked and mouthed at the outer node and lips for a few minutes, before pushing his tongue and forcing a slightly higher pitched cry from the pirate. “Voracious-cutthroat-imbecilic-callow-wretched-ohh god, deeper!”

That long tongue extended again, and Sabrehorn's shrieks got louder and louder as that glossa wriggled and swirled over every node. It vaguely occurred to him in the back of his cloudy mind that he'd never had a partner with a glossa long enough to reach the deepest of wire clusters, but that train of thought got lost with another shameless howl.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Ohmygod!,” he screamed, clamping Chop Shop's helm tightly between his thighs, tossing his helm back and letting himself screech out his overload into the ant's mouth.

Chop Shop drank up the lubricants, patiently waiting for those trembling thighs to loosen before he got up, firmly holding Sabrehorn's hips as he sagged against the wall. The smaller mech moaned and mumbled nonsense, looking around dazedly. His smile grew wider.

“Heh.” A click and hiss, and down slid his own panel, spike pressurising against Sabrehorn's inner thigh. The beetle looked down dizzily, blinking.

“Oh... ah...” He'd never actually realised Chop Shop's glowing decals had even been applied to his plug, a thin line of glowing yellow running along either side of it. The ant gave Sabrehorn a few more seconds to collect his bearings and grip his upper arms, before his pressed the head of his spike against his valve, pushing it in tauntingly slow. “Don't you tease... nnguh...!” Chop Shop grinned, the head just barely poked in.

He got a good grip on Sabrehorn's legs, then slammed in right to the base.

The beetle's vocaliser actually glitched slightly from the strain of the screech, and his arms flew around his strong neck again as he fucked him into the wall.

“Frag-g-g-godPrimus preserve meh-- ahhhh, gods above, harder, oh, slag!” All that cursing in the normally prim, well spoken voice appealed to one or two of Chop Shop's components, and he did as he was asked, leaving a shell sized indent in the wall. Their armours clanged and scraped rapidly, combined with Sabrehorn's screaming, making an enormous din that Chop Shop very much doubted anyone on the ship couldn't hear.

He licked his fangs with a grin, and tore into his partner that much faster.

“Ehk-- sshff-- Ooohh!” Sabrehorn began making their native Insecticon mating sounds, high pitched trills and rapid clicking, and he let out a wanton and whimpering moan as he overloaded a second time.

Chop Shop licked his lips, slowly pulling out and setting Sabre's pretty pedes back on the floor. He took a step back to watch the shivering, stuttering beetle struggle to stay on his feet, knees caving in as his fluids dripped from his valve and onto the floor. He panted heavily, mouth ajar.

The ant smiled, taking hold of Sabrehorn's chin, tilting his helm from side to side to see his flushed, unguarded face from every angle. Then he let go, turning him around so he was facing the wall. The smaller mech's hands pressed up against it for purchase, trying to catch his breath. Unconsciously, he back arched down, making his aft bump back against Chop Shop's spike. He glanced back over his shoulder, still panting.

He gulped as he watched Chop Shop's four optics trace him up and down, taking in every detail, before planting his large servos over the back of Sabrehorn's hands against the wall.

He pressed up behind him, rubbing the top side of his spike against the hypersensitive lips of his partner's valve. “Ahn... huh...” Sabrehorn's helm dropped, and he pushed back against him slightly. “I... I don't know... how much more... I can t-take...,” he breathed raggedly. “... Yuh... you haven't even overloaded yet...”

“I'm gettin' there.” Chop Shop kissed Sabrehorn's audial. “Trust me.”

He pushed in much slower this time, the thrusts shallow and gentle. Sabrehorn let out soft, chirping gasps, head swimming. “Oh... uhh...!” The pace gradually increased, their fingers interlocking together. “Huh... uh... sh... Chop Shop...!”


End file.
